


Harry Potter and the Charmed Bath

by JessicaX



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Hot Springs & Onsen, Older Woman/Younger Man, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-13
Updated: 2014-02-13
Packaged: 2018-01-12 06:10:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1182811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JessicaX/pseuds/JessicaX
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>During an otherwise uneventful summer at The Burrow, Harry finds his passion raging out of control against his will... what will come of this? Quick bit of fluff with the Weasley matriarch.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Harry Potter and the Charmed Bath

**Author's Note:**

> Warning To AO3 Users: I'm very ashamed of writing this and realise how completely awful and clumsy it is, so I'll thank you all to stop throwing beer bottles and bits of brick. It's over ten years old! Just... just leave me alone! *sob*

Harry Potter  
and the  
Charmed Bath  
  
 _~*~ Chapter One: Bashful Boy At The Burrow_  
  
Harry Potter had always loved summering at the Burrow. The surrounding countryside was very enchanting in a rustic way. The Weasleys only cut the grass immediately bordering the house, and the tall grass that surrounded it on all sides had a glorious scent, one that the ardently-maintained lawns of Privet Drive could never hope to match. Even a garden gnome or two couldn't detract from a glorious day such as this one.  
  
This particular summer day found Harry lying in the field, staring up at the spotted clouds. He idly wished to get in a bit of Quidditch practice, but there was nothing for it; the Weasley family had gone to visit an old friend of Mr. Weasley's, and though he was welcome to tag along, Ron had given him the distinct impression that he shouldn't, and that Ron himself would rather have remained behind.  
  
So here he was, being swallowed up by the grass, content to the fullest. It would be nice if Hermione was here, but she said she wouldn't be by until the following month, as she'd opted to spend some time with the parents she'd been neglecting of late. It didn't matter today, though. He was perfectly fine here in the grass, and he hadn't a care in the world. Someday he wanted his own home, and he hoped it would be this grand. Maybe not so far from civilization, but just so long as it wasn't stuffy and rigid like the Dursley's.  
  
Speaking of which, he must've begun to doze, as the next time a thought came to him, the sun was a bit further on in the sky. Now he felt slightly stiff all over. He realized this also applied to the contents of his knickers.  
  
He had a fleeting flash of embarrassment, then realized it was for naught. There wasn't a soul for miles, and nobody could care less. The Weasleys were to have afternoon tea with their acquaintance, then go shopping in Diagon Alley, so they most likely wouldn't be back until twilight. In fact...  
  
He hesitated for a moment, then shrugged. The tall weeds were hiding him anyway, so again, nobody could care less...  
  
He pulled off his shoes and socks, stuffing the latter into the former. His t-shirt and trousers immediately followed, and he tossed them beside the trainers. He hesitated again.  
  
"Oh, why not..."  
  
He quickly removed his underpants and tossed them on top of the lot. He suppressed a nervous giggle as he returned to lying in the grass, wearing nothing but his glasses and his epidermis. He glanced down at himself and recalled the words of a wizard he'd overheard at the Quidditch World Cup: "I like a healthy breeze 'round my privates, thanks." Harry found himself agreeing fervently; it was refreshing to feel only the wind against your body.  
  
Sometime later he was startled into consciousness by the sensation of something slimy landing on his forehead. His eyes peeled themselves open, and he found the sun had moved several positions on in the sky. Had he really been asleep for an hour? His fingers reached to his brow and curled around the body of a tiny earthworm. He stared at it as he sat up. The receding flapping of a bird's wings reached his ears.  
  
"Ahh," he said to the worm. "So you've managed a daring escape, have you? Off you go, then."  
  
He tossed it gently into the nearby grass and made to lie back down, when he heard a _POP!_ and some hurried footsteps. Harry froze. Who could possibly be here, today, now? There was faint muttering mixed in. He stood on his knees, trying to see without being seen. If only he had the cloak with him...  
  
Unfortunately, all he caught sight of was a whip of green cloak and the door slamming shut. His hand rested over his wanger. Should he dress? He didn't think whoever it was would make a beeline for him when they returned, as they probably had no idea he was there at all.  
  
Then a rather nasty thought occurred to him. What if they were an _intruder_? The Weasleys didn't have much, but they certainly couldn't afford to be burgled. Erring on the side of caution, he quickly scrambled into his trousers, drew his wand (which was in the pocket) and crept up toward the house.  
  
He had just entered the clearing in front of the porch when the door burst open and the "intruder" emerged.  
  
"AAAAAH!!!" they both shouted.  
  
"Oh, Harry!" the ever-so-slightly plump form of Mrs. Weasley panted, picking up the tiny sack she'd dropped in fright. "You nearly made me soak my knickers! What..." She glanced down at him. "Where've the rest of your clothes got to?"  
  
"Oh," Harry said, suddenly remembering how nude he had been, and still was mostly. "They're, um, over there." He pointed in the general direction of where he'd been reclining. He idly wondered if he'd have a bit of difficulty finding them again. "I was just relaxing in the field, and I heard you rush the house, and well... I didn't actually SEE you, and I thought you might've been a, erm... thief or something. Sorry." He stuck his wand back in his pocket sheepishly.  
  
"Ahh," she said, eyes closing with relief, still panting and running her hand through her fiery red hair. "Quite alright, dear. Good to know we have you guarding the house, I can think of no man better suited."  
  
She opened her eyes again and beamed. She had that look playing across her features that she only had when looking at him, a sort of admiration. Of course, loads of people had that look on their faces when they saw him; one of the drawbacks of being the unwilling hero. But Mrs. Weasley always had a mixture of admiration, and... perhaps it was pity? Pity for being known as the Boy-Who-Lived, pity for having to live with the Dursleys for most of his formative years? Pity for being prophecied to defeat the most vile sorcerer ever to walk the Earth? Harry couldn't place it, but he didn't mind most of the time. It was nice to know that a few people knew what he'd gone through and seemed to understand.  
  
"I've just stopped back in to grab a few extra Sickles," she said, becoming aware that she was burning holes into him, "and in my haste miscalculated, ending up in the field instead of the kitchen."  
  
"I see," he said, trying not to feel too self-conscious about wearing nothing but his trousers, which he had thankfully fastened. If he got _too_ self-aware, an embarrassing situation might "arise"...  
  
"You've got some muscle there, haven't you?"  
  
Harry blinked, then realized what she'd asked. "Er, yeah... I guess it comes from Quidditch practice. I've been trying to get more exersize so my game'll be better." He glanced down at his developing physique. He wasn't some kind of hulking beefcake, but at least he had tone now.  
  
She laughed apologetically. "Sorry, just that you don't normally walk around half-dressed."  
  
"No, I suppose I don't," he said, smiling.  
  
"I wonder why..."  
  
"Hmm?"  
  
Her eyes snapped open a bit wider, and her cheeks became slightly pinker. "Nothing, nothing. Well, I'd better be on, need to finish my shopping. Arthur and the kids'll be waiting for me." She rolled her eyes slightly. "I'm sure they'll all have landed in Fred and George's abomination of a shop."  
  
"Aw, they're doing alright for themselves."  
  
"I know, I know," she said with a sigh. "And I don't really blame them for leaving Hogwarts when they did, considering the circumstances. I just... I wish they'd have stuck to it just a bit longer, finished their seventh year and been done with it."  
  
"C'est la vie, right?"  
  
"I suppose." She took a deep breath. "Well, see you in a couple of hours. Unless... you're sure you won't come along?"  
  
He shrugged. "That's alright. I'm not too keen on traveling by Floo Powder today, and I'm rather content just lying in the field. I'll see Fred and George when I buy my school things for next term."  
  
"Alright, then," she said, putting her hand on his shoulder. She gave a slight squeeze. "Ooh, firm. You keep up that exersize!"  
  
"I will," he said, laughing nervously.  
  
She smiled brightly, then with another _POP!_ she Disapparated.  
  
Harry sighed with relief. He had felt very exposed and slightly ashamed the entire time she was here. He wondered if she knew he wasn't wearing his Y-fronts under his slacks? Probably not. Did she know he'd been lounging nude in their field?! Certainly not, he hoped. Either way, he thought it would probably be best if he just dressed again. He started walking in the general direction he'd come from, casting around for the rest of his things.  
  
  
  
 _~*~ Chapter Two: The Bathing Glade Charm_  
  
Harry awoke the next morning to a knock on the door. His eyes squeezed slightly, then pried themselves open. He tried to answer whoever was knocking, but his mouth didn't seem to want to work properly. Sleep was still lingering on his brain, and for a moment he didn't recall where he was. Then, of course, he remembered the Burrow, yesterday, and last night.  
  
The previous evening, he'd finally found his things and gone indoors, so bored on this lazy day that he'd begun reading _Hogwarts: A History_. He'd only gotten through the first page or two when he gave up and settled in for a nap in an easy chair. An hour later, the Weasley's returned and shortly after that they tucked into a nice dinner of roast duck.  
  
They'd all turned in at the same time, but Harry couldn't sleep, probably because of all the naps. He'd crept outside and gone for a long fly on his Firebolt, careful to stay away from the roads and cities. He was thankful for the moderate warmth of the summer night, as he'd not changed out of his pajamas.  
  
His mind blearily drifted back to the present as the doorknob turned and Mrs. Weasley came in, wearing only a short nightdress and slippers. Not noticing him there, she bent down and began picking up the clothing littered about the floor...  
  
Suddenly, Harry was fully awake. His vision had been slowly improving ever since he'd begun charming his carrots (Hermione's advice), and she was close enough to him that he didn't need his glasses. Though he hadn't intended to in the slightest, he was looking straight down the front of Mrs. Weasley's dress, and unfortunately, from his angle, he could see straight between her cleavage and on through to her crimson-tinted bush.  
  
Harry was disgusted with himself. It was _Molly Weasley_ , a married woman who was probably three times his age, the mother of his best friend, and he was aroused. Of course, he already had had the morning wood, but if it had been fading, it wasn't going anywhere now. He wanted to look away and pretend he'd never seen it, but as she bobbed up and down picking up things, her rather large, soft-looking breasts rippling, framed by her red locks falling down her shoulders, he found he was mesmerized. His hand had already crept downward of its own accord, and had just reached the strengthening bulge in his pants. He was afraid to move any more, so he just held it there.  
  
Then, without warning, she stood, yawning. As she stretched her arms out to the sides, still clutching several shirts and trousers and things, her thin white nightdress pulled taut over her full chest, revealing the slight indentations of her peaks. Harry stifled any sound he might've emitted, be it a gasp or a moan. Mrs. Weasley, her eyes still closed, sort of rolled her neck around, sighed, then turned away from him, bending to retrieve more laundry.  
  
A part of Harry had hoped that not being able to see down her dress would have lessened his arousal. Alas, it was the other part of Harry that was satisfied, as the new view he was presented with wasn't any less stimulating. Her bum, albeit not terribly slim, was quite round and had a good form to it. Also, as the nightie fell to about her knees, it had hitched up to just under her fanny as she bent down, and her bare legs were VERY easy to look at. He could still see her bosoms swaying to and fro from behind, and Harry was doing his best not to start panting.  
  
Then, to Harry's horror, she kneeled on the floor and began to dig underneath Ron's bed. Because of the way she was bent, her gown slid up her back, displaying her rear completely unfettered. Her legs spread slightly as she tried to tunnel her way deeper under the bed, and he saw far too much.  
  
"OW!" she cried, and Harry saw the bed move upward slightly, telling him she'd hit her head. She scrambled backwards out from under the bed, clutching her head with a hand that had a sock in it. She turned, staring at Harry, a terrified look on her face, her already-wide eyes going even wider as they settled on him.  
  
With a start, he realized he'd gasped when he'd seen her beaver.  
  
Her lips moved and no sound came out. The colour in her face had drained, but now it was rushing back into her cheeks, as red as her hair. Her other hand was hurriedly clutching at her gown, pulling it down below her chuddies. By now, her mouth had finally stopped trying to form a word, and was now simply hanging open, her breath coming faster and faster.  
  
Harry's mouth was also fumbling. He tried to think of something he could say, something that would make her feel less embarrassed, but he was too embarrassed himself. He felt like a _pervert_ , just sitting there watching her like that, but if he'd spoken up, she'd have jumped out of her skin, like she just did. _What did you THINK would happen?_ he asked himself. _Did you think she'd just leave the room without ever noticing you were there?!_  
  
Suddenly Mrs. Weasley squeaked slightly, her hands moving to her mouth. Harry followed her eyes and realized she'd seen the bulge in the sheets. He'd moved his pajamas down and was gripping his knob without realizing it. He hurriedly tried to push it back down, but it kept springing back up. He glanced back over at Mrs. Weasley, and noticed a strange look on her face. Looking down, he saw a puddle forming beneath her.  
  
 _Great,_ he chided himself. _You've made her wet herself._  
  
At this, she burst into tears. Harry was frantic. He had to do something, ANYTHING to make this less of a disaster, but it seemed like anything he did would only make things worse.  
  
"Fine kettle of fish, this," he finally settled on, his voice quivering.  
  
She gave a short blast of laughter mixed in with her sobs. "I'd say they've rotted," she sniffled.  
  
"Listen, Mrs. Weasley, I'm... I'm really sorry, I didn't mean to-"  
  
"No, no, it's alright, dear," she said, getting up to sit on Ron's bed. "I... suppose I just put on quite a show for you, didn't I?"  
  
Harry gave a quiet, nervous laugh. "I'd say it was worth a Galleon or two, yeah."  
  
She smiled slightly. "That'll teach me to wear such a short nightdress around the house."  
  
"Or look into rooms more carefully if you're going to be bending over in them."  
  
Her smile faded slightly. "Oh, I am sorry, dear boy, I swear I didn't see you there, I-"  
  
"It's okay," he said, trying not to get her crying again. "I was sleeping when you knocked, or I would've answered... I meant to, I just couldn't wake up quick enough... and then you were... well... I didn't want you to think I was TRYING to..."  
  
"It's quite alright, quite alright," she said, the smile returning and her face flushing. "I can't blame you for me thrusting my jacksie in your face, now can I?"  
  
"Er, maybe it would be best if I just got up and washed or something..."  
  
She looked sheepishly at the puddle. "I'm in queue, then."  
  
He hesitated. "Mrs. Weasley-"  
  
She waved a hand in dismissal. "Oh, go on, I'll just finish tidying up in here while you get on with your bath."  
  
"Alright," he said, sliding out of the bed, "I'll let you know when it's your-"  
  
He instantly realized his mistake, and though Mrs. Weasley's bulging eyes reinforced it, they only built on what had already dawned on him.  
  
"M-M-M-M-Mrs. Weasley-"  
  
Her gaze was fixed unmoving on his John Thomas, which he had had no success forcing back down and was sticking straight out of his knickers and into the air. He bumbled with trying to replace it inside his pants, but there was nothing for it; his hands were shaking too much and it was too hard to go anywhere very easily. His hands still wrapped around it, his eyes slowly raised to look at her.  
  
Her hands were at her mouth again, and he could see a trickle of liquid running down her leg and onto the floor. She still couldn't move her eyes from his thickening member. As his eyes moved over her, he noticed that her nipples were jutting out a bit. Harry felt so ashamed he could die.  
  
"Mrs. Weasley, I-"  
  
"Harry, come with me."  
  
He blinked for a moment, then he realized that she was moving out of the room. Harry, still trying to shove his piece into his pants, trotted after her, his mind reeling. _What the bloody hell was going on?!_ Was she chucking him out on his ear, had he offended her too much?  
  
As he passed a bedroom, he heard her call something from inside. He went in, but no one was there.  
  
"In here," he heard her call from a door in the back. Stepping inside, he saw it was a lavatory, and the shower curtain was moving slightly. He pushed it aside hesitantly, and received a shock.  
  
He was suddenly deep in a jungle, and there was a waterfall nearby. The foliage was so lush and green, and when he looked overhead, he was surprised to see the moon and stars, as it was probably around noon. He turned to the shower curtain, and he saw it appeared to be a curtain of vines from this side.  
  
"Get in," a voice said. He turned to his left and saw Molly sitting under the waterfall on the edge of a shallow pool, her nude form obscured by the cascades. Harry blinked for a few moments before she repeated herself, and he reached for his pants, then stopped.  
  
"I'll shut my eyes if you like," she said, smiling sweetly.  
  
She did so, and Harry quickly undressed and slid into the pool, sitting across from her. Thankfully, his seat was a bit lower than hers, so his rock-hard wasn't breaking the surface; it seemed to be built something like a jacuzzi. The water was cool, but not freezing, surprisingly. _As long as I'm here..._ He splashed some water onto his face, running his hands through his hair, and when he re-opened his eyes, he saw Mrs. Weasley had already done the same. Her hair had not been wetted yet, but small droplets of spray were clinging to it. Her chest was blurred slightly by the water running down it, and the water came up to just below her navel. If the situation wasn't so insane and he wasn't sharing a bath with his best friend's mum, he might have managed to go limp with the lessening of stimuli... but no such luck, of course.  
  
Suddenly she sighed deeply, bringing him up from the depths of his thoughts.  
  
"Harry, listen. This situation... it's very... difficult, I realize. We both needed to bathe, and I figured we might as well talk during it. I mean, we've already seen each other's goods, there can't be any harm in it."  
  
Harry grinned sheepishly. "I suppose that's true... alright, then. Erhm, this bath is nice... amazing, really."  
  
She smiled. "Standard Bathing Glade Charm; a combination of several charms, really. It became so common for wizards and witches some centuries ago that they named it... though most modern witches and wizards go with the normal bath."  
  
"Why haven't I seen it? Why's the other bath standard?"  
  
"Well, this is the master bath. Arthur didn't want both baths charmed like this, you know how he gets with muggle things and all, so the other bath is more traditional... but I wanted my glade in here, and he let me have it. Soap's there," she said, pointing to a violet cake nearby. He started soaping up with it as she continued. "Anyway... I'm not really sure what we should do about this. I mean, it'd be hard for me to get your... well that image out of my mind very soon... but you shouldn't think you have to go back to your Aunt and Uncle's, I wouldn't have it."  
  
He smiled. "I really appreciate you opening your home to me all these times... I only wish I could pay you back some way other than waving my willy under your nose."  
  
"I didn't mind much," she said with a slight smile. "But all of this wouldn't have happened if I wasn't bloody oblivious to my surroundings. I still can't believe I put my you-know-what on display."  
  
"It was quite a sight to see." He started to grin, then caught himself and stared downward.  
  
She blanched slightly. "Oh come off it, my body went to seed ages ago."  
  
"Well, if this is what it looks like after going to seed, then it-" He cut himself off again.  
  
"It... what?"  
  
"Well, it.. must've been flawless before." He wanted to curl up and float away through the pond and off into nothingness.  
  
"You... d'you mean that?"  
  
"I'm sorry, I really shouldn't be saying such things..."  
  
He heard a slight splash and looked up. Molly was gliding through the water toward him, her peaks slightly above the surface. Harry began breathing harder, his eyes glancing around wildly as if someone would suddenly Apparate and see them bathing together. When he turned his eyes to her again, her face was a mere twelve inches from his as she glided to his left side. He could feel her hand underwater, stroking his leg gently. Her other hand reached up and caressed his cheek.  
  
"Harry... dear, sweet Harry..."  
  
"M-Mrs. Weasley, I, I don't-"  
  
"Shh," she said, putting her finger to his lips. "Just... just hush."  
  
He looked down into her eyes. They were glittering slightly, a turquoise colour in the artificial moonlight. He could tell she felt terrible about doing this, as did he. His hand went to her cheek almost on reflex, his thumb brushing a forming tear from under her eye. It amazed him that she suddenly didn't seem so much older than him... it amazed him even more than things like that were suddenly flashing through his brain. He shouldn't even **BE** in this situation! He shouldn't be naked in front of a naked married woman! Her hand shouldn't be touching his thigh whatsoever! He shouldn't-  
  
 _-Be kissing her._  
  
It had been so natural, so fluid, that he hadn't even realized it was happening until their lips touched. He just sat there rigidly for a moment, afraid to do anything. Then her right arm slid up to his shoulder, and he took her deeply, tongue exploring the inside of her mouth, his arms wrapping around her. He could feel her ample bosoms rubbing against his bare chest, her left leg draping over his, her pubic hair brushing against him.  
  
"Mh... Mrs. Weasley..." The woman in his arms broke the kiss and whispered in his ear. Her voice was choked, strained.  
  
"I'm sorry."  
  
Then she pulled away, a sinful seductive smile playing across her face, a hungry look in her eyes. "Call me Molly."  
  
Harry's confusion must've been obvious, as then she smiled wider and put an arm around his waist. "It's okay, Harry. Sit up here, dear." She patted the wall behind him, and Harry, curious, obeyed. She, however, did not get out, but moved forward.  
  
With no warning, she grasped his wanger in her right hand. Harry began to pant again, his hands grasping the side of the pool. It throbbed at her touch, and she smiled up at him. Then she kissed the tip of it.  
  
A shiver ran down his spine. He couldn't believe he was doing this at ALL, much less with Mrs. Weasley. _Molly, rather,_ he said to himself. She really was a beautiful woman. Time had been extremely good to her; he couldn't see a sag or wrinkle anywhere on her. _Couldn't that be because your glasses are off?_ a voice said, but he ignored it. She was nothing less than a gorgeous, kind, stunning creature, and he wouldn't deny her what she seemed to want, as much as he knew it was terribly, unforgivably wrong.  
  
Her lips wrapped gently around his manhood, and his mind went blank with pleasure. The inside of her mouth felt so amazing, so warm and soft, he felt as if he'd been transported to another world. His head tilted back slightly and his mouth opened as she began to suckle gently, her hands on the insides of his thighs. Then, to his surprise, she shifted and took the whole of his shaft in her throat.  
  
 _Mr. Weasley, you lucky bastard,_ he thought, a slight moan escaping his lips. She gave a muffled laugh, then began sucking in earnest, her slightly-damp red hair bobbing with every movement. He could feel his cock swelling at her ministrations, and he whiteknuckled on the edge of the pool.  
  
"Oh..."  
  
She stopped briefly to look up at him and smiled, then started going at it harder and faster than before. His eyes flew open and his jaw dropped, and he almost instinctively wrapped his legs around her back. He could feel his wang filling up, ready to burst at any given moment.  
  
"Ohhhh, Molly..."  
  
At that moment, she cupped his rocks in one of her hands, and began running her tongue along his length while still sucking. Harry couldn't stand it anymore. With a shout that would've awakened the dead, he shot deep into her throat, panting. He glanced down and watched as she swallowed every drop, caressing his sack gently as if to coax more from it, her beautiful lips still wrapped tightly around him.  
  
"M-Mrs-"  
  
" _Molly_ ," she reminded him, holding his softening cock in her hand. She licked her lips and smiled, patting his leg with the other hand. "Did you enjoy yourself?"  
  
He nodded numbly. What can one possibly say about something like this?  
  
"Good, good." She took a deep, settling breath and rose slowly. "Well, I suppose we'd better towel off and dress."  
  
"Wait," he said, puzzled. "What... what about you?"  
  
Her brow furrowed. "What ABOUT me?"  
  
"Well... I've been pleased, but you haven't."  
  
Her cheeks flushed a bit. "Oh, Harry, that's sweet of you, really, but I don't need anything..."  
  
Harry stood and placed his hands on her waist, feeling her supple skin beneath them, staring into her bright eyes. Since his most recent (and probably his last) growth spurt, they were almost exactly the same height; something his being a rather short person was a factor in. "I... I need to... you've done for me, and I wouldn't feel right taking and not giving back." He couldn't bring himself to tell her that in earnest, he wanted to, more than anything. "Okay?"  
  
She just stared at him, the confused, anxious expression still swimming across her face. He couldn't stand it any more, so not knowing what to do, he pulled her into a deep, subdued kiss.  
  
 _What the bloody fuck am I **DOING?!**_ he thought to himself. _I have NO IDEA what I'm doing, I've never done this stuff before!_ While Mrs. Weasley probably had decades of experience (which she'd just demonstrated quite effectively), he'd only had a handful of quick snogs from Cho Chang... other than that, his love life had been empty as a cenotaph.  
  
In the absence of knowing what to do, he moved a hand down to her bum. It was as firm and smooth as it had looked, and he enjoyed the sensation under his fingertips. Molly, however, gave a short yelp.  
  
"Bit frisky, aren't you?" she giggled.  
  
"Well, it had been advertised so enticingly upstairs..."  
  
In response, she pinched his, a sensation he wasn't sure what to think about, but he jumped automatically.  
  
"Molly, how dare you!" he said playfully. Her nose crinkled as an impish grin spread across her face.  
  
"Mind your manners," he said. "Do I have to spank you?"  
  
"Oh, would you? I _have_ been rather naughty."  
  
Harry began to sweat slightly. He hoped she wasn't serious; he couldn't bring himself to strike this woman, even if she wanted him to.  
  
"I need a time out, I'm sure," she said, laughing. Her eyes rose to look into Harry's. "I'm sorry, I really shouldn't be going on like this, I feel like I've gone completely nutters, I..."  
  
"It's okay, I feel the same way." He kissed her cheek gently.  
  
"Mmm..."  
  
Taking this as a good sign, his mouth slowly moved down her neck, coaxing another quiet groan of pleasure from Molly's throat. As his mouth traveled down her soft chest, he could hear her breath quicken ever so slightly. At long last, he reached one of her peaks and took it in his mouth.  
  
"MMmh..." Her hand moved behind Harry's head, holding him to the spot. He continued to suckle, his tongue flicking across the tip, heated breath coming fast, his right hand fondling her other bosom. It was the softest, most luscious thing he'd ever held. He moved his other hand to her bum again, and this time her gasp was much more subdued.  
  
"Mmm, Harry, that's... th... Oh, Harry..."  
  
He couldn't quite believe himself, but he'd become slightly aroused again. He didn't normally this soon after taking care of it, but this was definitely a special circumstance. He began planting light kisses all over the knocker in front of him...  
  
 _"Oh!"_  
  
She'd cried out the instant his hardening member touched her leg. He looked down, then looked up at her sheepishly.  
  
"No no, it's alright," she said upon seeing his expression. "Just... surprised me a bit."  
  
He laughed nervously, then went back to kissing her bosom, this time slowly moving down her abdomen, and pausing to lick her navel, producing a giggle from Molly. Then he reached the beginning of her pubic hair.  
  
"I'm sorry," she said quietly, "if I'd known I was having company I'd have trimmed it up a bit."  
  
"I think it's beautiful," he said. He could almost feel her blushing.  
  
He slowly moved his lips down through the hair, pulling at bits here and there with his lips. She seemed to enjoy this, though her soft cries also seemed to hold some pain, so he restrained himself from doing it often. Then, when he had started to get fairly deep into the forest, she pulled back slightly.  
  
"What's wrong?" he asked, standing up straight.  
  
She panted, completely red now, shaking a bit. "I... I don't know about this... it's... you don't have to do it, Harry, I- we shouldn't-"  
  
"I want to," he said, hugging her and thereby grinding his wanger, now nearly full strength again, against her hip. He could scarcely believe how bold he was being.  
  
"W-well..."  
  
Harry put his hands on her shoulders and pushed down slightly, to convey that he wanted her to sit on the edge of the pool, and she did so, then she lie back. For a moment, he took in the beauty of her full, curvaceous form, how perfect it was from head to toe, framed by the jungle foliage; it was the most elegant and enchanting thing he'd ever seen, nearly bringing a tear to his eye.  
  
"Wake up, Harry..."  
  
He blinked, then blushed slightly. "Just taking in the scenery..." It was her turn to darken a shade, but even as she did so, he bent and planted a soft kiss on her toe, causing her to raise an eyebrow.  
  
"Starting at the other end this time," he told her with a slight grin.  
  
"If you say so, dear," she replied, supressing a titter. "It's just lucky they're clean right now."  
  
He smiled, but said nothing, leaving a trail of kisses across the sole of her foot and up her calf. As he passed her knee, she began to breathe a little faster, and the speed only increased as he moved further up her thigh. A light peck where the leg met the torso coaxed a slight moan from her, and her legs jerked together.  
  
"All right?" he asked.  
  
"Mmmh, yes, Harry," she said, both of her hands on the back of his head. He could tell she was hesitant to allow him to pleasure her, and though he wondered why, he knew he wanted to very badly, if she was willing. But as he descended again, her legs parted obligingly, and there it was; Molly Weasley's fertile crescent.  
  
 _NOW what?_ he thought shakily. He had never been this close to the female anatomy before -- the soft, pinkish lips, like glistening rose petals... the small jutting bit just above them... it was all so foreign. He passed a finger over the lot.  
  
"OhhH!" she cried quietly, clutching his hair tighter.  
  
He placed his middle and index finger on either side, lowering his lips toward her flower hesitantly, praying to any god that was listening, _Please don't let me bungle this!!!_ He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, then his lips parted and he licked.  
  
Molly's body seized slightly, as it had tensed in anticipation, and he could now hear her breath, almost feel her chest heaving from where he was.  
  
"That's, that's got it, Harry," she panted, "kh-keep going!"  
  
From then on, he simply did whatever came to him, sometimes preying on the inner walls, occasionally flicking his tongue over the clitoris, and sometimes merely kissing the area surrounding. The taste, the smell... it drove his senses wild. He began to feel a bit light-headed, but he blinked and kept at it. Not knowing what to do with his other hand, he threaded his arm under her leg and rested it on her stomach. As her shuddering gasps became louder and more frequent, he licked harder and faster, sucking on parts that he otherwise would've thought too fragile-looking to subject to such treatment. Suddenly, before he knew what was happening, his face was blasted with a hot and sticky substance.  
  
"Ahhh... hahhh..." Mrs. Weasley forced herself to her elbows, glowing exhaustedly at him, then she began to laugh. "What?"  
  
She must've noticed the puzzled look on Harry's face. He slowly reached a hand up and started pushing the fluids from his face.  
  
"Sorry, didn't mean to coat you in the stuff," she said, still giggling. She sat up, then got to her knees and licked his cheek, taking some of it. "I'll lick you clean if you want."  
  
"N-no, you don't have to," he said, blushing perhaps harder than he had thus far. "I'll lick YOU clean if you want."  
  
"I'm not sure I could handle it," she said, smiling mischievously.  
  
In the end, they both returned to the pool and washed Molly's cum from each other's bodies. A part of Harry didn't want it washed off at all, but the rest of him said it wasn't practical to walk around with it stuck to his face for all his life. In return for his very articulate cleansing of her fanny, she took a particularly long time washing his wanger, even though she'd devoured most of his cum. If she would've kept it up much longer, he probably would've shot again.  
  
As they finished toweling each other off, she said, "Well, the kids should be home in an hour or two, and Arthur will be home for supper, so I suppose we ought to dress."  
  
"I meant to ask," he said as he caressed her bosoms through the towel, "where _did_ Ron and Ginny go today?"  
  
"A Cannons game. They wanted to invite you, but they just couldn't get you to wake up. Dead to the world, you were."  
  
"Oh, well. I'm glad I fancied a late-night fly, or they might've got me up."  
  
She turned and smiled into his bright green eyes. "Been a real corker, hasn't it...?"  
  
"I never knew a body could feel so much pleasure all at once." He was being totally honest; it had been the most exhilarating experience he'd ever had the fortune to have.  
  
"Oh, you do go on," she said, pinching his bum again. He smiled and grabbed a handful of hers, and she screamed, which quickly gave way to a fit of giggles.  
  
"Harry Potter, you _are_ incorrigible."  
  
"My mental tides change under influence of heavenly bodies."  
  
She rolled her eyes, but she couldn't suppress the colour rushing to her cheeks. "Come off it, you. Let's go, then."  
  
Harry turned to go, then stopped. "What's that?"  
  
"Hmm?"  
  
He pointed, indicating a smaller pool half-hidden by large stones.  
  
"Oh, that's the hot spring... sorry I hadn't mentioned it earlier, sort of slipped my mind."  
  
"Understandable," he said, grinning. Then his smile slipped uneasily. "Mind if I...?"  
  
Mrs. Weasley also shifted a bit. "Listen, Harry, they'll be home after a bit... it's not a very good plan, dear..."  
  
He frowned, then nodded, resigned. "You're right, of course. Sorry... maybe another time." After a moment of hesitation, he kissed her on the cheek, then turned to leave.  
  
But she caught him. Her hand was clasped around his wrist and she was dragging him toward the jacuzzi.  
  
"Molly..."  
  
"Children are all spoiled, these days," she said as they approached the poolside, her towel slipping from her body. "Always getting what they want, aren't they?"  
  
Then she turned around and beamed at him, her face a shade deeper than her hair, and his heart leapt. He didn't know what wonderful thing he'd done to deserve this day, but he needed to find out and add it permanently to his to-do notes.  
  
"You know I fancy you, just a bit," he said.  
  
"Mutual." Her foot was slowly moving up the inside of his leg. "A bit."  
  
He grasped her hand and they both descended into the hot spring, slowly at first to get used to the heat. When they were both submerged up to their chests, they turned to each other.  
  
"Oh, Harry..." She placed a hand on his cheek, her eyes glittering once more. "What will I do with you?"  
  
"Do as you please," he said, putting his own hand over hers.  
  
Before he knew what was happening, she was pulling him on top of her.  
  
"Take me," she said, shakily.  
  
"Wot?" he exclaimed, slightly panicky.  
  
"Stuff me like a turkey... I want it terribly, I... I can't believe what I'm doing, but..."  
  
Her hand was already massaging his swollen member, so he probably couldn't have said "no" even if he'd wanted to. He responded by massaging one of her voluptuous breasts, using his thumb to play with her nipple. She smiled.  
  
"Cheers."  
  
"Anything for you," he said.  
  
Harry engaged her in another heated liplock, reveling in her taste. The swirling waters held a magic of their own that heightened the pure pleasure of every moment. His hands wandered all over every inch of her, his breath coming hard and fast, his heart pounding. As his eyes fluttered open for a brief moment he caught a glimpse of Molly, her cheeks flushed, her eyes squeezed shut, leaking tears that mingled with the water clinging to her face and the beads of sweat rapidly forming. Further south, the sensation of his wanger rubbing against her fur was driving him mad. She seemed to be able to tell, for without warning, she broke the kiss.  
  
"Go on," she breathed.  
  
As they re-entered the kiss, sweat began to pour down Harry's face. Before he had time to think, she was arching her back slightly, inviting him to be on with it.  
  
It seemed there was nothing for it. He knew he'd either have to plunge ahead, or he'd never be able to at all. He took a deep breath through his nostrils, cleared his mind, let it out slowly, and eased forward.  
  
"MmmMm..."  
  
His conscious thought seemed to leave him. Suddenly his brain was filled with a swirl of emotions, images, sensations, all alien to him. He'd never imagined anything could feel like this, so unearthly, so... wonderful.  
  
"Oh, Harry..."  
  
He was still pushing his length into her, the wet, soft folds closing around him as he did so. He felt like he could keep pushing forever, until she swallowed up his entire body, and he could feel her all around him for all of eternity. Then his pelvis was flush against hers, his jewels swimming up to touch her arse, and he hand no alternative than to pull back outward slowly. Distantly, he could feel her hands gripping him, and he realized he was gripping her, as well.  
  
"Harder!"  
  
Panting, he began pushing into her more quickly, the terrible, fleeting feeling that he would rip her apart rushing through his mind, only to be whispered away when the moans reaching his ears were of nothing but pleasure. He kissed her neck violently, giving her soft love bites as he kept pushing, then pulled. His hands passed over the soft folds of her skin, wanting to experience as much of her flesh as he could in a single moment. He could feel her breath hitting his skin as her hands curled around his shoulders, her fingers cutting into him slightly.  
  
"Oh, mh-Molly..."  
  
"Oh, yes, Harry, YES!!!"  
  
He could feel himself swelling within her body, forcing her inner walls to stretch further outward. He leaned forward slightly, bracing his feet against the bottom of the spring, and for the first time he noticed her legs were wrapped around his. He quickened his pace, thrusting into her rougher and faster each time. His breath was ragged, and he could hear her gasping for air.  
  
 _"GOD, YES!!!"_  
  
He couldn't even tell who had screamed it, his mind was swimming so badly. Their bodies were moving as one, and at fever pitch. It was almost painful to him, but he could do nothing but continue; he wanted this, he _NEEDED_ this. The feel of the woman below him, the heat of her body, her bosoms rubbing against his chest, her hands grasping at his shoulders desperately, and the water surrounding both of them...  
  
Then, just as it was almost more than his fragile psyche could bear, he stiffened, and he could feel himself spurting his seed deep within her. At the same moment, he was aware that she was shuddering as if being shocked. He was holding her as close as he could, his breath in her ear and hers in his. After what seemed an eternity, she became still, and lay back, her eyes glazed and unfocused, completely limp, save for the rapid rise and fall of her chest. Not wanting to burden her with his weight, he rolled to the side slightly and lay next to her, still inside her.  
  
"Mh... M... Molly... th-that... that was..."  
  
She smiled in response, her arm weakly reaching up to his cheek. He held it there.  
  
He was aware that the room was getting darker. He could feel her lips brushing his, hear her speak something softly, but it seemed so far away... He knew he was slipping into a dream, but no matter... he was here, next to her. As long as he could feel her beside him, everything was fine...  
  
  
  
 _~*~ Chapter Three: Epilogue_  
  
He slowly became aware that he was returning to consciousness. Everything was still dark, though, and he was floating. _Why was it so dark?_ Oh, of course; his eyes were still shut. _How bright I am,_ he thought. He slowly prised them open.  
  
Suddenly he was fully awake. He was in the bath! He was still here, it hadn't been a dream! But... where was Molly?  
  
He looked around. Everything was as he'd left it; his bedclothes were nearby, lying next to the main pool. He was in the hot spring. But Mrs. Weasley had disappeared. He supposed she must've been impatient in waiting for him to awaken and gone off to do something else. Either that... or it really was a dream. Of COURSE it was, he couldn't have had sex with Mrs. Weasley! It seemed the obvious explanation.  
  
He got up and quickly pulled on his things, then headed out into the house, still kicking himself mentally for believing the dream to be real... and for having the bloody dream in the first place. He continued this as he changed from his pajamas into fresh clothing. He became aware that something smelled absolutely tantalizing. He followed his nose down into the kitchen, and there she was, wearing a maroon cloak and apron, huddled over the stove.  
  
"Wh... wha?" his still-groggy mind managed.  
  
"Oh, good morning, Harry dear," she said, smiling warmly, wand in hand. "Have a good nap?"  
  
"I... yeah." He moved a few paces forward, out of the doorway. "I... I think I had a dream."  
  
"Really? What sort?"  
  
"Well, I... I er... nevermind." His brow knitted. "But... Mo- err, Mrs. Weasley, did you notice me sleepwalking?"  
  
She frowned. "No, why?"  
  
"Well, I woke up in the bath... YOUR bath. It's strange..."  
  
"Well, that's where you fell asleep, dearie," she said, an amused expression on her face. "Why shouldn't you wake up there?"  
  
"But... but that would mean..." He studied her face very carefully, but nothing on it gave anything away.  
  
"Supper'll be ready shortly," she said, her voice even lower and warmer than before. "Ron and Ginny are outside, de-gnoming. They got home a bit ago, and I told them you were busy bathing." She laughed slightly. "They said you were a 'lazy sod'. I told them to watch their language and sent them out on the chore."  
  
Harry began to sweat slightly. "M-Mrs. Weasley... did, did we...?!"  
  
She held a finger to her lips. "Supper will be ready shortly, Harry dear."  
  
He sat down heavily. He couldn't believe what had happened! And it was REAL! He pinched himself to make sure THIS was real, and the sting told him yes, it was. He'd gone _mad_ , absolutely wonky. He just had to ask again.  
  
"Mrs. Weasley, please, don't toy with me..."  
  
She sighed, then turned to him, her face looking slightly sadder than before, but still beaming at him. If he wasn't mistaken, it appeared her face had both more and less colour than before.  
  
"Harry... you know as well as I do that it would be best if we didn't speak of it. Nothing good would come of it."  
  
"But-"  
  
"Please, Harry..."  
  
He could see the pain on her face, and he suddenly realized what she was trying to convey to him. Nobody could know about this, not a single soul. If anyone found out, he would be ridiculed by his friends, hated by the Weasley family... and think of HER fate! The weight of it hit him as if it were a hippogriff. He stood up and moved toward her.  
  
"H-Harry--!"  
  
Before she could become more anxious, he flung his arms around her, laying his head on her shoulder. He could feel a sigh of mingled relief and despair escape her as she embraced him, one of her hands caressing his unruly hair.  
  
"I'm sorry, dear... I really am."  
  
"It's okay," he said, muffled by her shoulder. "I suppose I knew it all along."  
  
He wanted to stay like that just a little longer, but he grudgingly let go, afraid of being found like that. She beamed into his face reassuringly, her hands on his shoulders.  
  
"Harry... you're a strapping young lad, you are. I'm sure the girls are quite fond of you."  
  
"I suppose that's true."  
  
"Oh, come off it!" she shouted, waving a hand. "You're probably beating them off with a club! You'll find one you fancy, and that'll be that."  
  
He smiled a bittersweet smile. "I won't forget this."  
  
"Believe me," she whispered, "neither will I."  
  
As a _POP!_ resounded outside signifying Mr. Weasley's arrival from work, she gave him a fleeting kiss. He knew it would be the last time he ever felt her soft lips against his, so he reveled in it, memorizing every detail. Then, it was over, she had turned back to the stove, and he was left standing there. As the door opened, he recovered himself, and ran from the room.  
  
As he listened to the sounds of greeting, he allowed a single tear to slip from the corner of his eye, but no more. Despite how horrible he felt now, he knew what she'd said was true. He'd keep his eyes open for a girl... maybe patch things up with Cho. Despite last year, he _DID_ still fancy her.  
  
But he would never forget this day. Never as long as he lived.  


~*~ The End ~*~

**Author's Note:**

> LEGAL NOTICE: Harry Potter, all names, characters, and related concepts are ©1997 J.K. Rowling. And I guess Warner Bros., even though they're merely milking her grand idea. This work of fiction and all concepts unique to it are ©2003 by Jessica X. 
> 
> SPOILER WARNING: I've read the first five books, as well as the Hogwarts textbooks. This fic may contain no end of spoilers for them, but I'm trying to keep the OotP spoilers to a minimum. You've been warned, and that's all there is to say about it. This is also a lemon, and is rated X, just so you know. (I refuse to say it's "NC-17", as that rating name is just ridiculous.) Any questions? PM me.
> 
> VENOMOUS RANT: I would also like to mention quickly that Wordpad is an ass. It relieved me of my first draft of this fiction. Though I'd only had a page so far, it's still a bit trying to rewrite something you've just written, especially when it's the only draft in existence. I don't know if this one can measure up to its predecessor, as everything I'd written was just as I'd wanted it. DOWN WITH WORDPAD!!! Though really it's my computer that I'm cross with, it loves to irk me to no end.
> 
> I also realise that I've split this up into three chapters, but I think you'll agree that it's useless to bother uploading it that way when it's really not a very long fiction. Besides, it would take more work on my part, and I am slothful. Enjoy!


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